Clumps Of Clay 8-31-07

If in Creation we were found,

up with the wind, dust from the ground;

If not our name - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His image we are formed,

ate from a tree, we were forewarned;

If not our heart - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His hands we take our shape,

and from His hands, there's no escape;

If not our face - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His hands He holds us up,

and from His image, forms a cup;

If not for grace - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His grace, we sit unused,

and on a shelf, are still accused;

If not for faith - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His armor, we go out,

and prove our faith, beyond all doubt;

If not good works - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If with our souls, these clumps of clay,

just sit around day after day;

If not through prayer - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

It's from His Son and from His breath,

we now have life instead of death.

"WHAT's" not the answer. Now you see,

“WHO” makes you, you - and makes me, me....

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/ 

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